“No reasoning can be more candid, General,”
returned Major Montgomerie; “and far be it from
me wholly to deny the justice of your observation.
My own private impressions tend less to impugn your
policy than to deplore the necessity for the services
of such an ally: for, however, it may be sought
on the part of the British Government, (and I certainly
do differ from the majority of my countrymen in this
instance, by believing it will impose every possible
check to unnecessary cruelty,) however, I repeat,
it may be sought to confine the Indians to defensive
operations, their predatory habits will but too often
lead them to the outskirts of our defenceless settlements,
and then who shall restrain them from imbruing their
hands in the blood of the young and the adult—­the
resisting and the helpless.”

“If we should be accused of neglecting the means
of preventing unnecessary cruelty,” observed
Colonel D’Egville, “the people of the
United States will do us infinite wrong. This
very circumstance has been foreseen and provided against.
Without the power to prevent the Indians from entering
upon these expeditions, we have at least done all
that experience and a thorough knowledge of their
character admits, to restrain their vengeance, by
the promise of head money. It has been made generally
known to them that every prisoner that is brought in
and delivered up, shall entitle the captor to a certain
sum. This promise, I have no doubt, will have
the effect, not only of saving the lives of those
who are attacked in their settlements, but also of
checking any disposition to unnecessary outrage in
the hour of conflict.”

“The idea is one certainly reflecting credit
on the humanity of the British authorities,”
returned Major Montgomerie; “but I confess I
doubt its efficacy. We all know the nature of
an Indian too well to hope that in the career of his
vengeance, or the full flush of victory, he will waive
his war trophy in consideration of a few dollars.
The scalp he may bring, but seldom a living head with
it.”

“It is, I fear, the horrid estimation in which
the scalp is held, that too frequently whets the blades
of these people,” observed the Commodore.
“Were it not considered a trophy, more lives
would be spared; but an Indian, from all I can understand,
takes greater pride in exhibiting the scalp of a slain
enemy, than a knight of ancient times did in displaying
in his helmet, the glove that had been bestowed on
him as a mark of favor by his lady-love.”

“After all,” said the General, “necessary
as it is to discourage it by every possible mark of
our disapprobation, I do not (entre nous) see, in
the mere act of scalping, half the horrors usually
attached to the practice. The motive must be
considered. It is not the mere desire to inflict
wanton torture, that influences the warrior, but an
anxiety to possess himself of that which gives indisputable
evidence of his courage and success in war. The